Drone

Hernán sighed and poured himself another drink. He despaired at his brother’s lack of imagination. He thought about explaining the overall plan he had in mind, but his older sibling would just get confused. Hernán’s vision was too complicated, too violent, and too subtle for the actor to comprehend, let alone execute. It was better that Antonio remain a handsome figurehead while Hernán pulled the strings behind the scenes.

At least for now.

Hernán heard his mother’s small, pitying voice in his head again, an echo from his childhood.

You can’t fight fate, pobrecito.

“To hell with that,” Hernán said to nobody as he drained his glass.

12

Near the Snake River, Wyoming

Pearce hadn’t built his worldwide company in less than a decade by micromanaging. By temperament and training, he was an analyst, always looking for the big picture. When he decided to strike out on his own, he saw a world of opportunities thanks to advances in drone technologies. Drones themselves weren’t actually new technology. Nikola Tesla earned the world’s first patent for wireless remote-controlled vehicles in 1898 and demonstrated the remote-control wireless powerboat in Madison Square Garden that same year.

Pearce’s other gift was people. He knew how to hire the right ones to seize those new opportunities.

Drones were changing not only modern warfare but nearly every other aspect of civilian life as well. In the end, drones were just delivery systems. Energy, medicine, agriculture, and transportation were just a few of the areas being transformed by the advent of autonomous, independent, inexpensive, and reliable vehicles.

Under normal circumstances, Pearce’s unseen investing partner could’ve expected an excellent return on the cash used to launch the company. But Pearce’s civilian operations had already delivered exceptional returns and promised many, many more for years to come and he was happy to allow others to lead those divisions.

But Pearce Systems security operations were far more lucrative at the moment—and far more dangerous as well, so he took responsibility for the day-to-day operations of that division. As president of the company, it was his responsibility to ensure that both sides of his house were in order because, in fact, they supported each other, directly and indirectly. He did this by regularly contacting his division heads, just to let them know he was still engaged with them and as passionate as they were about their respective projects. It was an exciting time to be alive, for sure.

More often than not, though, Pearce felt as if he were riding on the back of a galloping two-headed tiger. There was no telling where all of this might end up—Skynet was just a writer’s nightmare, but was it really so far from the truth anymore? On the other hand, the promise of a technological nirvana seemed just as plausible. Pearce wasn’t sure which of the two mouths would eventually swallow him, but he knew exactly which orifice of the beast he’d eventually be vacating when it was all said and done.

Pearce shook his head. It was late. His mind was wandering. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and dropped into his favorite chair in the cabin and tapped on his smartphone. Time to check in.

Dungeness, Kent, United Kingdom

August Mann stood at the top of the old soaring lighthouse, more than forty meters in the air. Due west was the decommissioned Dungeness A nuclear reactor facility. Due south was the English Channel.

The view of the surrounding beaches was fantastic, but it was the stout wind frothing the Channel waters far below that had caught his attention. Perfect conditions for kite surfing. His phone rang. It was Pearce. He picked up immediately.

“Troy. Wie geht’s?”

“I’m fine, August. How are you?”

“I was just thinking about you! San Onofre,” he barked into the phone. The wind gusting through the open window whipped the German’s hair. Ironically, San Onofre also featured a nuclear reactor by the sea, but August was referring to the kite-surfing competition where they first met several years ago.

“Did you bring your board?” Pearce asked.

“Natürlich! Bring yours, we’ll have good fun.”

“Don’t tempt me. How are those beautiful daughters of yours?”

August had married three years ago. His wife bore him twin girls a week after the wedding. “Growing fast. I can’t wait to get them out on the water here. Thank you for asking.”

“So, how’s it going over there? Any problems?”

“No. Everything is on schedule. We began defueling operations three days ago. The drones have functioned perfectly, as expected,” August said.